Highway America is a Relic of the Past

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Last year, Matt Walsh and Mike Cernovich joined a chorus of conservative influencers encouraging young, single, American men to take a road trip to find “a good woman” to marry. There is a general sense in online conservatism that young men are simply not trying hard enough to find a suitable mate, in part, because they are too online, under-socialized, and don’t touch enough grass, don’t take risks, or don’t put themselves out there.

The conversation involving Walsh, Cernovich, and others was triggered by a post from Hickman, a writer focused on how to live well but frugally in modern times.

Hickman’s advice:

“Take a month or two between jobs and drive across the USA. Stop at every gas station and truck stop and eat every meal at diners during non-rush hours. Avoid cities; stop primarily in poor rural areas out in the middle of nowhere.

Every time you see a pretty cashier or waitress with a good vibe, politely ask her out. Tell her you’re out seeing the country and looking for a place to settle and a good woman to marry. Repeat until you’ve found someone to go steady with.

This worked for at least one young, awkward guy I knew at a Catholic Church in Louisiana. Met his wife at Love’s on I-80 in Iowa. She converted, moved to Louisiana with him, and they go back to Iowa together every Christmas, fueling up at the truck stop where they met. She was giddy to find him, as most of the men in her town were either already married or total losers. They were both in their early 30’s when they met.

I had planned on doing this when I got out of the military, but Providence had it that I’d never have to try it out—I’d be engaged to Keturah just before my discharge. But I say to any young man having trouble finding a woman it’s absolutely worth a try.

At worst, you see the country and go on a few bad dates. At best, you find the love of your life.”

As a single, Gen Z guy with very little to lose, I read this and decided to give it a try. I documented my road trip experience through my pseudonymous X account, Bumbadum, and my writing accumulated over 6 million impressions—my journey becoming a focal point in the raging cultural debate on the evolving landscape of dating, marriage, and especially the role of young men in modern society.

After making a rough travel plan, I notified my employer that I’d be taking a week off. On Friday morning, I left LA and began my drive across the American West. As I took the interstate into rural terrain, I began stopping periodically at diners, gas stations, and small stores.

I’m an outgoing guy, and I went into this journey ready to strike up conversations—even if a little forced. But of course, American interstate stops are not exactly filled with young women waiting to be swept off their feet like it’s a Hallmark movie, nor were the stops reincarnations of idyllic scenes from Baby Driver.

What did I find in my road trip stops?

In Blanding, UT, a small town of around three thousand, I got breakfast at a diner, hoping to meet someone young and maybe less “corrupted” by life in a city like LA—maybe my future wife. Inside, there were zero young people. I was waited on by a woman who looked to be in her 80s. It was slow, so we chatted aimlessly. Her name was Maria. She had lived in Blanding her whole life. Years in the desert had weathered her skin. Her husband used to work at the White Mesa Uranium Mill until a round of layoffs cut a third of the workforce. The parent company (Energy Fuels Inc.) still owns multiple uranium mills and mines in the county, but they’ve been shutting down. White Mesa is the only one still operating: “Yeah, a lot of the town used to work for them—but not anymore. My husband works at Ace now.” The conversation died out at this point, and I ate in silence.

After dinner, I drove around a bit and walked a few stretches. There were many familiar sights: an old school, a small hospital, fast food chains, parked trailers, empty lots, and a few homes with nice yards. As my journey continued, I stopped at various rural gas stations and convenience stores, even off the beaten path, but these gas stations today aren’t staffed by young local women from small-town America. They’re staffed by old people who couldn’t leave their town’s economic decline, or by foreigners.

Everywhere things felt sapped—old waitstaff, empty booths, rushed small talk. I met a few friendly younger people at various points in my trip, but people were in a hurry or had headphones in—the idea of the teeming or “open” American small town seems to be mostly a memory.

My experience across the American West was more like this scene from Hell or High Water than anything—what Marc Edelman, Chris Hedges, and others have described as “sacrifice zones.” Think about what J.D. Vance describes in Hillbilly Elegy. Driving through most small towns in America, it looks like you’re in the B-Roll footage for a Taylor Sheridan movie. These places have been hurt by offshoring, mass migration, opioids, and other challenges. Of course, this was the driving force for the populist MAGA movement, the wave that carried President Donald J. Trump to victory in 2016 and 2024.

A year later, two reflections from my trip have stuck with me:

1. Rural areas may have been great for meeting a wife in a prior era, but the demographic reality has changed.

2. However, there are still other imperfect, but viable, mechanisms for young, high-agency guys.

On the first point, boomers, Gen X parents, and young people should be aware: you probably aren’t going to find love in a sacrifice zone. In many cases, there isn’t much left. The rural population under 30 has been shrinking rapidly due to rural-urban migration and birth rate patterns. Various macro forces have pushed young people—especially capable and desirable young people—to move out. They move away for college or for economic opportunity. In a place like Blanding, UT, not many return, or if they do, only later in life.

On the second point, while not necessarily in line with what you typically hear from the conservative influencer ecosystem, here is the practical advice I’d give to a high agency guy who wants to find someone to marry:

1. College — Try to find someone at university. You will never be around more like-minded young people in one place. For Christians especially, ministries like Cru, Navigators, University Catholic, Reformed University Fellowship (RUF), and others should be taken seriously, not just as a place to grow in faith and virtue, but as one of your best shots at meeting the right type of person to marry.

2. Friends & Family Network — If you skip college or have already graduated, finding someone through friend and family social networks (including church) is a tried-and-true method. Many of the young people in these networks will have moved to big cities, so it’s worth considering this factor within the broader suite of tradeoffs (economic, social, etc.) that determine whether a move into a city is worthwhile. Further, asking for specific introductions through these networks is a strategy that has worked for some friends.

3. Apps, etc. — Finally, if both of the prior approaches fail, it’s probably worth “playing the game” of modern dating—logging onto the dating apps, going to certain social meetups that extend beyond your usual rotation of friends, and other related approaches.

I did not meet my girlfriend in a sacrifice zone gas station—as Matt Walsh imagined I would. I met her on a dating app in LA. Like most young people, I dislike dating apps, but in the end, the types of young people the boomers imagine are working diners in American small towns are actually concentrated in cities, pursuing careers at Deloitte or working as nannies for dual-income law partners. Influencers, parents, and young people need to accept this new reality and adjust their advice accordingly.